SAM
by uniquelyjas
Summary: An accident causes MacGyver and Sam to return to Los Angeles where Mac's world will be changed forever. Alternate series finale...possible lead in to Season 8 if there had been one. One-shot!


**SAM**

It wasn't supposed to be like this. When MacGyver and Sam had set out on their motorcycles six months ago, they planned to tour the country, if not the entire continent. Sure, they both knew they would return to Los Angeles eventually. Neither of them ever expected it would be this soon.

Their trip had started out uneventfully enough. The father son duo rode up the California coastline, taking in the sea air and camping out under the stars. At times, their relationship was easy and comfortable, as if they had known each other all their lives. At times, it was new and exciting, like discovering a piece of themselves they hadn't realized was missing until now. They spent hours in companionable silence, and hours in animated conversation as they told tales of the places they had seen and the adventures they had experienced over the past years. The one thing that remained constant was the underlying peace in knowing that they were no longer alone…they had each other.

Their idyllic journey came to an abrupt end a few weeks ago in the Nevada portion of the Mojave Desert when a freak accident mangled their motorbikes and landed them in the hospital. MacGyver had taken the brunt of the impact as he had attempted to shield Sam from harm, his paternal instincts kicking in big time. Unfortunately, they both suffered varying degrees of rib injuries and Mac earned yet another concussion. When the doctor had released them from his care, they mutually agreed to return to Los Angeles to regroup and perhaps reconsider their future.

MacGyver felt every one of his forty-some years as he and his son loaded their motorcycles onto a trailer attached to a cheap pick-up truck he had bought. The trek westward was long and tedious. Each bump, each pothole rattled the old truck as well as their healing bodies. The one bright side had been when MacGyver had called his former landlord and discovered that his old apartment was vacant. He had quickly worked out a short-term lease agreement with Mel who even offered to get Mac's furniture out of storage so he and Sam could move in immediately upon their return which had been three days ago.

MacGyver now sat in the well-appointed Phoenix Foundation office listening to his now-blind friend and former boss gloat.

"I knew it!" Pete exclaimed, not even trying to hide his pleasure. "I knew you couldn't stay away for long!"

"Now Pete, this doesn't mean we're back for good. We just need some time to get our bikes and bodies back in shape. Then…we'll see."

"It's just lucky I didn't turn in your resignation like you asked," Pete continued as if MacGyver had not spoken.

"You _what_?!" Mac bolted from his chair and jammed his fingers through his hair. "Pete, you promised!"

"Just like _you_ promised when I asked you to put in _my_ resignation before my eye surgery?"

Pete had him there. "Well, what did you do then? Surely someone noticed I haven't been around!"

"I got you an extended leave of absence."

"Peeete!"

"What? You were going through a lot at the time. I didn't want you to do something you might regret."

MacGyver sighed gustily.

"Look, if you decide you still want to leave, I'll accept your resignation, no questions asked."

"Thanks Pete. I'll let you know," Mac promised as he left the office.

When MacGyver got back to his apartment it was to find Sam standing in front of the open refrigerator chugging apple juice straight from the plastic jug.

"Really Sam?!" he scolded.

"Hey, we're all family here, right?" his son replied lightly.

Mac smiled as his insides warmed. Not too long ago there was a time when he thought the word 'family' would never again apply to him.

"So, how'd it go with Pete?" Sam asked as he put the juice back in the fridge, closed the door, and plopped down on the couch.

"Good," MacGyver replied after a slight hesitation. "He never put through my resignation."

"What?!" Sam practically flew off the couch. "You said you were done with Phoenix!"

"Sam, settle down," Mac said with a laugh. "Pete promised he would accept my resignation if I decide to submit it again. It's no big deal."

"Then submit it," Sam demanded.

MacGyver squinted his eyes as he studied his son. "What has gotten into you all of a sudden?"

"Nothing! I mean, we just found each other. I don't want you going out on any dangerous missions. I don't want to lose you."

"You know I did a lot of other, very safe, things at Phoenix, right?"

"I know," Sam murmured and hung his head.

Mac blew out a breath. "All right, if it will make you feel better, I will personally hand in my letter of resignation tomorrow."

The next morning, MacGyver stood in front of Pete's desk and laid the plain white envelope in front of his friend before sinking down in the leather chair across from him.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Mac?" Pete asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm sure," MacGyver replied.

"You don't want to take some time and think about this?"

"No, Pete. I need to do this," Mac insisted. "Since I found out about Sam, that I'm no longer alone—"

"MacGyver, you were never alone."

"I know Pete, but this is different. I have family now. I may be twenty-some years too late, but I want to do right by Sam."

"So what do you two have planned?"

"We haven't really talked about," Mac shrugged. "Maybe do some more travelling, or maybe settle down. Buy a house."

"A house?!" Pete choked on the words.

"Yeah, ya know, like a home! Someplace where we can put down roots. Maybe get a dog."

"I never thought I'd see the day when you settled down. Next I suppose you're gonna want to get married!"

"And what if I do?!" MacGyver shot to his feet, frustrated and a little hurt that Pete wasn't being more understanding. More supportive.

"Look, I'm sorry Mac. I'm just not used to hearing you talk like this."

"Neither am I," Mac replied in a much calmer tone.

"Well, whatever you decide, you'll keep me posted right?"

"You can count on it," MacGyver promised with a smile his friend couldn't see.

Sam was waiting for him when Mac walked into the apartment.

"So, did you do it? Is it official?"

"Yes, I did it. Pete promised me he would send my resignation through the proper channels. I am officially an ex-Phoenix employee."

"That's great!" Sam beamed. "How about I run out for a pizza and we can celebrate?"

Though the thought of no longer being part of the Phoenix Foundation left him feeling emptier than he had anticipated, he smiled at his son.

"Sounds good. Get whatever you want on it but make it half veggie."

"You got it," Sam laughed and turned to leave.

"Hold on, I'll get you some cash."

"Don't bother," Sam grinned. "This one's on me."

A couple hours later, MacGyver was tossing the remains of their dinner in the trash when he noticed a 35mm camera with a telescopic lens sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Sam?" Mac called to the bedroom where his son had retreated. "Is this your camera?"

The young man reappeared in the kitchen. "Yeah."

"I thought it got busted in the wreck?"

"It did. I bought this one while I was waiting on the pizza."

MacGyver picked up the camera and examined the dials and buttons before looking through the viewfinder and adjusting the lens.

"Very nice," he commented. "Looks pretty expensive."

"Well, yeah. But I've been saving up," Sam replied as he reached out and eased the camera out of his father's grip before returning to his room.

XXXXX

A couple days later, MacGyver and Sam were in the apartment garage working on their bikes.

"So, have you given any thought as to what we should do once we get these bikes fixed up?" Mac asked.

"Not really," Sam answered. "We could hit the road again, or we could just hang here for awhile."

"You do know that eventually we're gonna have to get some jobs, right?" MacGyver chided.

"Of course I do," Sam laughed. "Listen, I gotta run to the auto place and pick up some parts. Can I borrow the Jeep?"

"Sure. It's parked out front," Mac said as he pulled the keys from his pocket and tossed them to Sam becoming more concerned about his son's behavior and spending habits.

MacGyver had just retrieved a socket wrench and turned his attention back to his motorcycle when an explosion rocked the earth. Mac flew out the garage door to find his Jeep engulfed in flames.

Mac sat on the curb outside his apartment building staring into the night. Pete stood steadfastly by his side, a fatherly hand placed on his friend's shoulder. The firetrucks, police cruisers, and coroner's van had long since disappeared.

"You're Jeep has been taken to Phoenix. We're going to go over it with a fine tooth comb and nail whoever's behind this," Pete promised.

"Me."

It was the first word MacGyver had uttered since Pete arrived.

"It should've been me."

"Now don't go blaming yourself for this, Mac," Pete instructed. "You had no way of knowing."

An uneasy silence hung in the air before Pete spoke up again.

"If it'll make things easier on you, I can have Phoenix set up the funeral arrangements. Do you have any preferences?"

MacGyver shook his head slowly before letting his chin drop to his chest.

Pete took a deep breath. "It's getting late. Why don't you spend the night at my place?"

"No. I'm good here," Mac replied as he rose to stand beside Pete. He reached out, took the man's hand, and shook it. "Thanks for everything."

XXXXX

Three days later, MacGyver stood next to the grave site. His white dress shirt in stark contrast to his dark suit and tie. Pete stood next to him and friends and colleagues from Phoenix gathered around them. Mac stared at his son's coffin, tears welling in his eyes, while the minister recited what was supposed to be a comforting psalm. All MacGyver could hear were the five words that had been haunting his mind since the explosion: It should have been me.

As the mourners dispersed after the final blessing, Mac dutifully guided Pete back to their car. The driver dropped Mac off at his apartment and minutes later he was slumped on the couch, not even bothering to take off his jacket. He had been numb for days, void of sensation and emotion…except guilt. There was always the guilt.

It wasn't until he put his feet up on the coffee table that he noticed a large manila envelope that hadn't been there when he left earlier in the day. In slow motion, he leaned over to pick it up. His name was scribbled on the front, but that was all. He mechanically ripped it open only to have several glossy black and white photographs slide onto the floor. MacGyver retrieved them and his grief turned to rage in an instant as he found himself looking at several pictures of his burning Jeep.

"No," he murmured breathlessly. "No…"

Just then the telephone rang, causing him to jump. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now and was tempted to let the machine take the call when it suddenly occurred to him that the person on the other end was probably the person who took and delivered these pictures. He lifted the receiver to his ear but remained silent, waiting to hear the voice he had come to know so well over the years. The voice that was supposed to be as dead as his son.

"Hello, MacGyver. I thought I would call and offer my condolences. No doubt you found the pictures by now. The moment of your dear son's death captured for all eternity."

"Why, Murdoc?" MacGyver's voice was low and controlled.

"I've had a lot of time on my hands since our last…meeting…and I decided what better way to torture a man than to kill his son. You see, I know how important family is to you, MacGyver. Such a shame Sam had to die just as you were getting to know each other. Alas, I am now faced with quite the dilemma. I had made it my life's goal to terminate you. And I still could. But I wonder if it wouldn't be more satisfying, to me anyway, to allow you to live a long, healthy life and grieve every single day for your son knowing it was you who should have died instead?"

MacGyver couldn't take it anymore.

"Noooo!" came his guttural yell as he hurled the phone across the room before dissolving into tears and uncontrollable sobs.

XXXXX

Mac was waiting for the main doors of the Phoenix Foundation to open early the next morning. He was standing in front of Pete's desk before his old friend hadn't even taken the first sip of his coffee.

"It was Murdoc," he declared without preamble.

"No way," Pete replied. "Murdoc's dead. Really dead this time, Mac."

"But he called me, Pete. I heard his voice!"

"MacGyver, I'm sure you believe what you're saying, but you've been through a terrible shock."

"Then how do you explain these?" Mac raised the manila envelope and allowed the pictures to fall on Pete's desk. Belatedly, he realized Pete couldn't see the evidence in front of him.

"They're photos, Pete. Of the explosion. Taken by Murdoc."

"You don't know that!" Pete insisted. "Someone could be playing tricks on you. A copycat, maybe."

"Other than you and me, who else knows exactly how Murdoc operates? It's him, I'm telling you!"

"And what if it is him?" Pete asked calmly. "What can you do about it?"

"I don't know," Mac sighed, jamming his fingers through his hair.

Just then Pete's intercom buzzed and he deftly reached over and pressed the button.

"Yes, Helen?"

"Mr. Thornton, a cassette with the results of the lab tests you ordered was just delivered. Would you like me to bring it in?"

Pete hesitated. "Yes, you can bring it in."

Helen walked in the office and put the tape in Pete's outstretched hand.

"Thank you," he replied as he felt his way around the hand held cassette player and inserted the tape. He then reached for a nearby set of headphones and put them on. MacGyver was a bit disconcerted, but he realized there may be classified material on the report so he sat silently as Pete listened to the tape. After several minutes, Pete clicked off the player and turned in MacGyver's direction, a deep frown on his face.

"Bad news?" Mac ventured, but his question was met with silence.

"Pete?"

"Look MacGyver, I was hoping I'd never have to tell you this, so please promise me you'll hear me out without interruption."

"Okay, I promise," Mac agreed, sensing the gravity of whatever he was about to hear.

"When Sam figured out who you were and told you he was your son, I was concerned at how you just accepted that at face value. Now, I know he had the locket with your picture and he told you things you thought only Kate would know. But I also know how much you wanted it to be true. I believed your longing for family overrode your investigative nature. So, I held on to your resignation and had the boys down in research do a thorough background check on Sam to make sure he was who he said. They ran him through ViCAP, Interpol, the works. He came back clean and all his vital documents, including his birth certificate, checked out."

Here Pete paused.

"But…" MacGyver prompted.

"After the explosion, I requested his remains be examined. We just discovered that Sam's dental records match those of a college dropout from Massachusetts named Matthew Nicholson. He was reported missing by his girlfriend about nine months ago. Both his parents are dead, he has no extended family or even close friends to speak of so she was the only one who noticed he was gone. Apparently they met in acting school and had both landed roles in a community theater production. According to the girl, one day a man introduced himself as a Hollywood director and offered Nicholson 'the role of a lifetime'. It wasn't until after Matthew had moved to Los Angeles and the girl lost all contact with him that she reported it to the authorities, but they didn't see much urgency since he had left willingly."

"So you're saying this 'Matthew' pretended to be my son. But why? And how did he know all those things about me and Kate?"

Slowly the fog began to lift from MacGyver's muddled brain.

"The director. It _was_ Murdoc!"

"It appears so," Pete sighed.

"So this was all an elaborate set-up? Right from the beginning?"

Pete's silence was MacGyver's answer.

"How could I have been so stupid!?" Mac bellowed, slamming his hand hard on Pete's desk.

"There's one more thing, Mac. The bomb in your Jeep was triggered by a detonator. It was never meant for you."

XXXXX

The phone was ringing when MacGyver entered his apartment. He didn't want to talk to anyone, but he had a gut feeling that not just _anyone_ was calling him.

"Hello," he growled, picking up the receiver.

"Hello MacGyver."

"Murdoc." Mac's response was barely audible.

"I must say I'm disappointed that you and your friends at Phoenix figured out my ruse so quickly. I was so hoping to watch you pine after your only son for a while longer."

"Why did you do it, Murdoc?"

"The answer to that is quite easy, MacGyver. As I said before, I know how much family means to you. I began to wonder what it would be like to give you the child you've always yearned for, and use him against you. I went out East to find a protégé and schooled him in all things MacGyver."

"You mean you _bought_ a protégé." Mac countered. Suddenly Sam's spending habits made sense. Of course he could afford pizza and a new camera if he was on Murdoc's payroll. And getting a job wouldn't exactly have been at the top of his to-do list either.

"But how did you know about me and Kate? How did you know my first name?"

"You're not the only one with resources. You'd be surprised at the information I have at my fingertips."

"What was your plan?" MacGyver knew he shouldn't encourage Murdoc, but he needed to know. He had been played a fool. Loved and grieved for a son that never existed.

"My first goal was to get you away from Phoenix. That is your life's blood, after all. I needed you completely alone, except for Sam. However, that friend of yours wasn't as cooperative as I had hoped."

"That's why Sam insisted I resign," Mac said softly.

"Indeed. Next, I needed Sam to win your affection. A feat surprisingly easy to accomplish it seems. After that I was going to bide my time. When I decided this little charade was no longer entertaining, I would pluck Sam from your life in a most painful way." Murdoc's evil laugh caused a shiver to run up MacGyver's spine.

"So you killed an innocent kid just to hurt me?!" Mac all but shouted into the phone.

"So it would seem," the other man nonchalantly replied.

"You've gone too far this time, Murdoc, "MacGyver ground out between clenched teeth.

"So? What are you doing to do about it?" came the glib reply.

"I'm gonna kill you, Murdoc," Mac said in barely controlled anger. "I'm gonna hunt you down and kill you."

"I don't think so, MacGyver. You see, you just don't have it in you. Taking a man's life in cold blood just isn't in your DNA. Unfortunately for you, I, however, possess that gene. So allow me to bid you adieu until we meet again, MacGyver. And I promise…we _will_ meet again."

Mac's body went slack. He automatically hung up the phone and allowed himself to fall onto the couch behind him. He scrubbed his face with his hands. When would this nightmare end? Or perhaps more importantly, how?


End file.
